


Do What You Will

by anotherdiana



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Rape, the classic 'erik lets christine go and keeps raoul' fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherdiana/pseuds/anotherdiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is just so dark, I'm sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do What You Will

Christine stays silent, shaking with fear and terror and revulsion.

Instead, Erik turns to the boy crumpled at the foot of the stairs.

“Your life, or hers.” It isn’t really a question, but it needs an answer.

“What?” Raoul asks, dazed.

He’s only just woken from his bout of unconsciousness, and Erik is still reeling from the image of the slight boy passed out on his bed. He’d looked smaller in sleep, more delicate and almost fragile. His blond hair had been mussed against the pillow, and he smiled softly before he woke, untroubled by the nightmare he had just lived through.

“Your life, or Christine’s. One of you must give yourself up to me, or you both die.”

“Let her live!” Raoul gasps, trying to push himself into a sitting position.

“I fully intend to let her live, Vicomte. The question is, will she live on the surface, or down here? One of you can walk free, the other must spend their life in the darkness with me. The choice, dear boy, is yours.” He takes a moment to sneer at the boy. “No one need die tonight. How much do you value her freedom? Enough to give up your own?”

“Of course! Keep me, do with me as you will, just let her go!”

“NO!” Christine cries, throwing herself forward pitifully.

“No?” Erik questions. “Then you wish to give up your own freedom to save your love?”

Christine glances towards Raoul, and then lowers her gaze, ashamed.

“No.” She whispers.

If it were Erik, he would be enraged at the betrayal. He would feel cheated to know that his love valued her own life above his, but Raoul simply looks relieved.

“Very well.” Erik snarls, grabbing the faithless Christine by the arm, and hauling her to her feet.

“Stay.” He barks at Raoul, before dragging Christine from the cellar. He doubts that the boy could move far anyway, and he’s almost past caring. If the boy tries to run, then he will follow, and drag him back.

He deposits Christine in a sobbing heap outside the Managers’ door, and returns to his cellar, sealing the entrances as he goes.

When he arrives back, Raoul is more or less where he left him, now propped up against the wall, his head tipped back, and his eyes closed.

“You’re still here.” He says, gruffly.

“You told me to stay.” Raoul replies, opening his eyes.

“I thought you’d run. I was expecting to have to follow you.” Erik offers a hand, and is surprised when Raoul takes it. He pulls the boy to his feet. “I’m glad you didn’t, I’m too tired to be chasing you around the Opera House tonight. But why didn’t you try to escape?”

Raoul looks surprised, as if this should be obvious.

“We made a bargain. I exchanged myself for Christine.”

Erik raises his eyebrows.

“And you intend to fulfil that bargain without a fight?”

“Of course. A gentleman never rescinds on a deal.”

Erik twists his lips into a wry smile.

“You’re probably going to regret sticking to your principles. I won’t make things easy for you.”

“I understand.” Raoul keeps his head high, even though he’s shaking slightly. Erik isn’t sure whether it’s from fatigue or fear.

“Well, then, take off your clothes and follow me.” Erik begins to walk towards the bedroom.

“What?” Raoul says, startled.

Erik turns back to look at him.

“Take your clothes off. I want to have sex before we retire for the night.”

Raoul looks as though he’s going to pass out.

“You.. you want-”

Erik smirks.

“You did trade yourself for Christine. What did you think I was planning to do with her, teach her backgammon?”

Raoul’s face floods with colour, his eyes widening comically.

“N-no. But I didn’t think… I mean, not with…”

Erik almost pities the boy.

“You are every bit as beautiful as Christine, Vicomte. I wouldn’t have been prepared to let you stay in her place if I weren’t attracted to you.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, just turns and leads the way to the bedroom. He’s glad to hear Raoul follow him.

He kicks off his shoes, sheds his waistcoat and shirt, and turns to see that the boy still isn’t naked. He’s standing just inside the doorway, toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Well?” Erik prompts.

If anything, the boy goes redder. He opens his mouth, and then closes it again, without making a sound. His eyes are fixed firmly on his feet, refusing to look up at Erik.

Erik sighs.

“Would you like me to do it for you?”

Raoul nods quickly.

In two large strides, Erik crosses the room, and makes short work tugging Raoul’s shirt over his head.

Raoul lifts his arms obediently to aid him, but still refuses to look up from the floor.

Erik sighs again.

“I hadn’t taken you for a blushing virgin, Vicomte.”

The boy’s eyes fill with tears, and he presses his lips together tightly.

“Ah,” Erik says, pulling Raoul into a crushing embrace, “you _are_ a blushing virgin.”

At this, Raoul lets out a single, pitiful sob.

Erik pats his back in what he hopes is a comforting manner.

“Well, never mind, it’s rather sweet, actually. I hadn’t thought you would be as innocent as you look.”

Raoul presses his face into Erik’s shoulder in embarrassment.

“And you might actually enjoy it. I will do my best to make it pleasurable for you, although you will probably need to keep your eyes closed, so as not to see my face.”

Raoul is startled out of his shyness.

“I don’t mind your face.” He says, frankly.

“That’s very sweet of you, Vicomte. But you don’t need to pretend, I know I’m hideous. Best just to turn your face away and think of someone else.”

“I’m not as shallow as you think I am.” Raoul says, quietly.

“I’m sure you are as deep as the ocean,” Erik mocks, “but still, I doubt you want to look at my fearful visage while you’re being pounded.”

At this, Raoul clams up again, and his face, which had barely begun to return to a normal colour, once again turns bright red.

Erik is enjoying himself immensely. He unfastens his trousers and slides them to the floor, stepping out of them.

Raoul takes great effort to keep his gaze fixed at a point just over Erik’s shoulder.

Erik steps close, and begins to remove Raoul’s own trousers.

“Now, Vicomte, no need to hold on propriety. You’re allowed to look.”

“Please stop calling me that.” The boy whispers, his eyes squeezed shut, as Erik rids him of the last of his clothes.

Erik hums slightly as he circles the boy, admiring him from every angle. He has the most exquisite buttocks, firm and tight.

He presses his chest against the boy’s back, arms encircling his waist, pulling him close, so the boy must surely feel his need.

“ _Raoul_.” Erik breathes into his ear. “Raoul.” He presses a kiss to his neck.

The boy shudders, sensation overcoming nerves.

Erik continues to rain kisses down his neck, across his shoulders. This is the way forward with the boy. Sweet, gentle caresses to put him at his ease. A tender play at love to make the boy feel wanted, not just for his body, but for his soul.

He turns the boy around carefully, and tilts his head up, placing a soft, lingering kiss against his lips, which turns into two, three kisses. The boy is quick enough to respond, pushing back against the larger man, opening his mouth to Erik’s tongue.

Their kisses become filthy, a clash of tongue and teeth. Erik is biting and sucking, and Raoul is trying desperately to keep up. His eyes are still squeezed closed.

Erik walks him backwards, and lifts his delicate frame from the ground before his legs hit the bed.

When he lays the boy down on the sheets, his eyes fly open, fear flashing across his face.

The expression is smothered quickly, and he reaches up to grasp Erik’s shoulders, pulling him down on top of him.

It seems the boy is determined to play his part to the full.

“You are not required to enjoy this.” Erik murmurs into the boy’s ear.

Raoul blanches.

“I mean,” Erik continues hurriedly, as the boy tries to pull away, “I do not expect you to pretend for my sake. Be honest with your emotions, or I will not know when you are truly enjoying yourself.”

Raoul, apparently, does not wish to follow these instructions, as he immediately pulls Erik into another kiss. He agreed to give himself to Erik, and it seems he intends to make good on his deal.

Erik is perfectly satisfied with this result. He runs his hands across Raoul’s torso, and down to his thighs. Gently, he pushes his legs apart, and settles between them, rocking their hips together. Raoul is still limp.

Erik finds that he cares more than he thought he would, although not enough to stop.

Groaning from the friction, he continues to rock his hips against Raoul’s, leaning down to tongue at Raoul’s tight, pink nipples.

After a few minutes, the boy is panting breathlessly beneath him, arching his back in an attempt to get closer to Erik’s mouth. He squirms urgently when Erik bites down, bucking his hips up.

Erik smiles. That was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for.

He moves back up to lap into Raoul’s mouth, and the boy opens up for him readily, still arching his hips up to meet Erik’s thrusts, growing stiffer by the second.

Breaking their kiss, Erik moves them into a sitting position, pulling Raoul firmly into his lap. Raoul hides his face against Erik’s shoulder, but at his prompting, continues to move his hips against Erik’s.

Erik lets him keep at this until the boy is gasping and mewling with every roll of hips, and, when he throws his head back in abandon, too close to fulfilment to remember his embarrassment, Erik pushes the boy off his lap, and presses him down against the bed.

Raoul whines at the loss of contact, and opens his eyes. They’re clouded with lust, and full of reproach. It seems the boy has forgotten himself, and who he is meant to be pleasing.

Erik simply chuckles, and gives Raoul two swift strokes to get the boy moaning again, his annoyance at Erik forgotten instantly.

Capturing Raoul’s mouth in another kiss, Erik reaches to dip his fingers into the pot of oil ready on the nightstand.

Without breaking away from Raoul’s lips, he reaches down and carefully pushes one thin finger into Raoul’s tight heat.

The boy jerks back with a gasp, eyes wide and fearful, and tries to squirm away from Erik’s probing finger.

Erik shushes him gently, holding his hips still with his free hand, and pushing himself further upright to get a better angle.

Raoul stills, biting his bottom lip to keep silent, in a way that makes heat course through Erik’s veins.

Erik bends down to suck bruises into the boy’s neck, and starts to push his finger further in, a fraction at a time.

Raoul spreads his legs wider, and relaxes by degrees as Erik whispers his name against his neck. He lets out choked little whimpers as Erik rubs a second finger against his entrance, before pushing it in alongside the first.

Raoul is panting, eyes glazed and unseeing as Erik thrusts the digits in and out, mouthing at Raoul’s throat.

When Erik crooks his fingers in just the right place, Raoul _wails_ , and Erik uses his distraction to start working in a third finger.

By the time Raoul is stretched, he is leaking between their stomachs, whining with need as he tries to press his body closer to Erik’s.

Erik himself is almost in a frenzy, desperate to bury himself deep inside the boy.

He pulls his fingers free, and hooks one of Raoul’s legs over his shoulder, lining himself up.

He forces himself to move slowly as he works himself in, pushing past Raoul’s tight resistance, and ignores the brief look of pain that flickers across Raoul’s face.

He groans as he drives in, agonisingly slow, until he is buried to the hilt. Carefully, he pulls almost all of the way out, and then thrusts back in, hard.

Raoul cries out, and Erik finds himself uncaring if it’s in pain or in pleasure.

He sets a swift pace, shoving in brutally, working towards his long desired release. In a moment of clarity, he remembers the boy beneath him, and begins to tug at him in time with his thrusts, revelling in the noises the boy makes as he writhes under him.

Seconds later, he drives deep, and spills into the pliant body beneath him, continuing to jerk at the boy until he, too, cries out his release.

Erik lies panting for a few moments, his face buried in the crook of Raoul’s neck, feeling hazy as he fights to get his breath back. When he lifts his head, he sees that the boy is unconscious again. His whole body is flushed, and he is sprawled loosely across the sheets in the very picture of debauchery.

Erik pulls out of the boy, and hovers above him for a few minutes, taking in the sight before him, then gently reaches down to touch the wetness of his own release where it drips out of the boy, using his fingers to push it back into that tight passage.

He smirks to himself, and then lies down next to the boy, wrapping him in his arms, and tugging the sheets from under their bodies to cover them up.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my life now. What have I come to?  
> But seriously, canon era is so effing difficult, and so is sex. I should just stick to modern!AU fluff. Someone give me pointers??  
> I'm probably going to continue this, though, so if anyone has any idea where I should go with it...


End file.
